Wasteland Worship
by Kuma the wolf alchemist
Summary: Because sometimes when shit hits the fan, all you can do is hope that God is listening. Or: the three times the Sole Survivor worshiped because emotions are hard to process.


Wasteland Worship

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Description: Because sometimes when shit hits the fan, all you can do is hope that God is listening. Or: the three times the Sole Survivor worshiped because emotions are hard to process.

Warnings: Language

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The first time Preston heard her sing he couldn't help but pause in wonder. It wasn't necessarily because she was good—she could carry note—but it was the conviction behind her words. The way she lifted her hands to the sky as if she could possibly touch heaven.

Ashe Ryder-Sole Survivor of Vault 111, General of the Minutemen, and part-time Brotherhood Solider- had found out her son was the Director of the Institute. The Commonweath's greatest threat was going head-to-head with what many called the Commonwealths only hope of survival. Really, it was all too much to place on the head of one woman—even if she had an army to back her, her name was tied to their cause in a bigger way then she had ever imagined.

 _She also never imaged into wind up almost 200 years in the future,_ Preston thought humorlessly. He watched as his General walked through Sanctuary Hills—passed her house, the communal area, even passed her friends. She kept her eyes set forward until she veered right—going up the path that led to the vault that once held her prisoner.

"Is she going where I think she's going?" MacCready asked, glancing at Preston as he watched their leader disappear.

"Yup," Preston replied, already one his feet with his laser musket in hand.

"Should we really leave her along right now?" Piper questioned, looking up the road with an expression of concern.

"Probably not," Preston sighed, moving in the direction his General went. He knew she wouldn't fully accept his concern or help, but he had to try—at least to show that he cared for her.

When he found Ashe, she was singing. It wasn't pretty or melodic. It was harsh and full of hurt. Her hands were lifted to the sky as if she could touch heaven—to wrench God down and make him speak to her face-to-face.

"Give me faith to trust what you say. That you're good and your love great. I'm broken inside, I give you my life…" She sang through tears, rocking back and forth on her heals. She brought her hands from the sky and to her sides—looking up at the clear blue sky. "I maybe weak, but your spirit strong me. My flesh my fail, but my God you never will…"

Preston almost started moving from his spot yards away from where she stood on top of the metal platform that led down to the vault. He wanted to comfort her—anything to get her to stop sounding so defeated.

"Give me faith to trust what you say. That you're good and your love great." Her voice was laced with rage. She was begging for this faith. Suddenly her arms spread wide, as if challenging God. "I'm broken inside, I give you my life."

He watched as she swayed side to side—scared that she'd suddenly topple over. Preston opened his mouth to try and alert her of his presence, but the words died in his throat.

"God," She said weakly. "So much has been taken from me. My husband and now my son…my son is the leader of the _fucking_ Institute! If you love me so freaking much, please tell me why the hell this is happening. Please, enlighten me of your plans." Silence reigned. "God…I'm trying hard here. I'm working with what you're giving me, but I really need you to give a little. I need a break, I need something good to happen. I...I need you to come through for me. _Please."_

Ashe looked like she was about to fall on her face any moment, but she stayed upright. Preston heard her take in another deep breath, and sing: "This my prayer in the battle, when triumph is still on its way. I am a conquer and co-heir Christ, so firm on his promise I'll stand…I will bring praise, I will bring praise, no weapon formed against me shall remain. I will rejoice, I will declare, _God is my victory and he is here_."

Ashe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. When she turned she didn't seem surprised that Preston was there. She simply looked at him with tired blood-shot eyes as she re-tied her brown hair into a lazy bun. Preston smiled weakly at her—not sure what to say. He just watched the woman he looked up to sing angrily and talk to herself.

"I'm sure you think I'm crazy," She said after a moment. She looked significantly calmer, but her eyes still held that bitter rage that she couldn't seem to shake.

"Not at all General."

"Liar," She teased lightly. She looked away from him—keeping her gaze on the view of Sanctuary Hills. "I grew up going to church and didn't really like any part of it…but in college I got involved in a church and it just kind of clicked I guess. My favorite part of it is the worship. I know a lot of people who hated it, but that how I felt most connected with God." Her eyes found his again. "Sorry…what I'm trying to say it, worshiping calms me down a bit so I can think clearer."

"I didn't think worship was so…angry. I always thought it was more peaceful." Preston said once he found his voice. Ashe didn't open up very often so he took this as a sign to try and get to know 'Ashe The Person' more and not just 'General Ashe' or 'Sole Survivor Ashe'. Though he honestly didn't think getting to know 'Ashe The Person' would involve talking about God and the act of worship. "Granted I have no church background. There were a few missionaries, but I didn't really listen."

"Worship usually is a rather peaceful experience…but I didn't really have any of my own words for what I was feeling so I kind of just sang whatever came to mind until I could think straight."

"The way you talked to God though…is that how you're supposed to pray? I thought there was less cussing involved."

Ashe tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a wet cough. "Yeah, it's generally supposed to, but hey I was told to be real with God and I was being real." She glanced down at the metal floor below her as if she had just become aware that she was standing on top of the vault. "Nate…he used to play the guitar and we would sing whatever came to mind. Sometimes it was worship songs but normally it was whatever was popular of the radio."

Preston tired not to think about the change in topic or the corpse underneath their feet. "Do you play the guitar?"

"A bit. I can play a few songs that Nate taught me," She replied. "I think his guitar is still in the house actually. It probably ridiculously damaged, but I may see if I can salvage it."

"I think you should," Preston encouraged. "It might make you feel better and it'll keep your hands occupied." _And away from weapons that will accidentally discharge because you're twitchy with paranoia._

Ashe smiled. It was weak and not nearly as bright as it was before her life crumbled around her for the at least the tenth time since she walked out of the vault—but it was there and Preston thanked whatever God was watching over them for it. "Thanks Preston…for everything."

"No problem General."

"Also, please don't tell anyone I angrily sing to myself and yell at the sky. If anyone knew I'd probably have a religious debate on my hands or something."

Preston feigned confusion. "You sing General?"

Ashe cracked another smile and Preston was thankful that he could witness a side of her that very few people would ever see.

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Author's Corner:

The two songs used do not belong to me.

Songs:

1\. Give Me Faith by Elevation Worship

2\. Desert Song by Hillsong United


End file.
